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Get Off My Lawn 100

Sept. 22, 1919



Parents of Rogue valley school children have been notified of a change in behavior among their young pupils that has taken valuable learning time away from their studies.

According to our fine teacher Mrs. Henderson, who leads the children in grades three through eight in her classroom, students have been come increasingly engaged in a form of note-passing during study time.

These notes, she reports, have nothing to do with any impropriety regarding answers to their studies on a test of their knowledge. Instead, the notes cover a range of social topics — such as which students are the best dressed that day, who was seen eating lunch together and, oddly enough, a preponderance of pencil drawings depicting what antics the children’s cats committed at home.

As the notes pass from desk to desk, each pupil is asked to mark whether they approve of the contents, and request whether they can become members of the note-passing group.

Mrs. Henderson reports that some of the pupils draw smiles on the paper, while others draw hearts or an upward-pointing thumb. One parent was mortified to learn that their little type actually drew a symbol that appeared to represent something a dog would leave in the neighbor’s yard.

This epidemic of disruption has spread throughout the school, and has become so popular that some children are drawing notes while seated at the dinner table, rather than listen to what their parents had done that day.

We shudder to think where this rude social networking could lead. While parents are best-warned to remain vigilant and while Mrs. Henderson says she is contemplating confiscating pencils and paper from her pupils, it should be noted that Mr. Drucker has seen a rush on sales of such supplies at his general store.



As you know, we have been chronicling for you the athletic ambitions of young Mister C. Brown and his goal of becoming a professional footballer.

Word now arrives that young Brown is requiring the aid of a game volunteer as he trains to perfect the use of his educated toe in propelling the inflated leather egg through the goal posts from increasingly long distances.

The volunteer is needed to hold the egg in place as young Brown swings his leg through after a run-up of a few steps. No injury risk is expected to the egg-holder, since he has become quite proficient at this athletic endeavor.

Young Mr. Brown reports that his previous assistant, his classmate Lucille, had become quite taken with being prankish — whisking the ball away just as his leg was about to strike the egg — which drove him to pull his hair out and seek a replacement.

We’ll keep you informed on our young footballer’s progress in finding a volunteer, and toward progressing in this most unusual profession.



The Medford constabulary had to be called in this Saturday past after a ruckus broke out on Main street as riders of a bi-cycle, a motor car and a horse-drawn carriage appeared to block each other from securing a parking spot.

Such was the nature of the kerfuffle, the hubbub, the brouhaha, the uproar, the contretemps, the tempest in a teapot, the mountain in a molehill, the snafu, the oopsie-daisy, the imbroglio that it took several of the city’s finest peacekeepers to bring order to the situation.

One uninvolved onlooker was said to complain that these situations would only increase unless the city fathers did something about the woeful lack of downtown parking, while his companion suggested that -- if this was the type of behavior one would expect in the busy downtown shopping district — she would even consider making the lengthy trek to Ashland to do business.

As to the matter at hand, as one would expect each of those involved found fault with the others.

The carriage driver said that the operator of the motor car was attempting a maneuver called parallel parking and, after several failed attempts, simply stalled the contraption’s engine in the middle of the street.

The motor car operator laid blame on the bi-cycle rider, who he said was riding down the middle of the street without watching out for others and looked and smelled as though he hadn’t showered for a week. Meanwhile the bi-cyclist said that he was not beholden to the traffic laws that covered either horses or engines and that the others should be fined for fouling the air.

The motor car driver told Officers Wojciehowicz and Dietrich that while indeed there were momentary puffs of smoke that emanated from his vehicle, the odoriferous gas released filtered harmlessly into the air — disappearing within moments without any scientifically proven detriment to human beings or the environment — whereas the methane-filled byproducts released by the horses not only watered the eyes of those in the area, but left a stench that proved impossible to remove from the boots of those who happened to take a misstep.

Constables settled the matter without those involved resorting to fisticuffs, and sent all on their way with a warning to remain courteous at fellow travelers and a gentle reminder that their complaints of fouled air would soon be a matter of the past, as the winds of the valley would soon be carrying the welcome scent sprung by the annual harvest in the hemp fields.

Missives to Mail Tribune copy desk chief Robert Galvin can be mailed postage due to rgalvin@rosebudmedia.com